Of truth and Beauty
by harrison starr
Summary: The story of Hephaestus, the only god to be born ugly, and his marriage to Aphrodite, the most beautiful of the gods. My first fanfic plz r&r!
1. prologue

**A monster prince  
**Set among the gods,  
His ugliness eclipsed only by his loneliness.  
**The great seductress**,  
Cold and lovely,  
She seeks to toy with his yearnings.  
**The deaf king,  
**Selfish and sure,  
Always with a ready laugh.  
**The innocent shining,**  
Sweet and blind,  
Who seeks to mend his heart  
**In this tale**  
**Of truth and beauty. **


	2. the monster prince

On the day Hephaestus was born there was an immense foreboding darkness over Olympus. It was in darkness that he was cast out, so that none might see the shame of the babe's hideous features and malformed limbs. He should have been a prince among gods, Hera's only son. Instead he was the only god to be ugly, a moment's embarrassment, soon forgotten.

But Hephaestus would not be forgotten. He promised himself this long before he discovered the hidden forge in the mountain on the island, and taught himself the craft of smithery. The work gave him a sort of peace with himself; the fire and forge knew only the skill of his hands, not his lame foot or his monstrous face. Day and night young Hephaestus would train and work, sculpting his body to become strong, even if it could never be beautiful, and learning to see past his physical failings, in hopes that someday the gods would accept him as one of their own. It was while focusing his craft that Hephaestus discovered the wonder of creation and the joy of beauty, and the pain of ugliness. The day Hephaestus understood the monstrosity of his features was one that left an indelible scar on his soul.

He always knew he was not beautiful. His leg was twisted and dragged uselessly, his arms large, his back hunched. His face, he knew, was horrible to look at. And yet as a young child he played with nymphs constantly, who had saved him from the sea into which Hera had thrown him. Until one day, when he noticed that none of them would look directly at his face. He chased after each of them, demanding that they look at him. But the nymphs just screamed in mock terror and ran around him, laughing and teasing their ugly pet. He became more and more frustrated. Why would they not look at him? Wasn't he their friend? Wasn't he their god? In a fit of rage he grabbed at one, the youngest, and tossed her into the sea off the tiny island. Then the nymphs screamed in feared as one by one they ran into the protection of the forest. It was then that Hephaestus knew he was a monster. He vowed to live in solitude, with only his work to keep him company, until the day he was fit to rejoin the gods.

There were times, during the many years Hephaestus spent honing his craft, that he was sure that day would never come. His weapons, perfectly balanced and fit for a god, were neatly arranged along the walls of his forge, unused. His surprisingly delicate silver jewelry, unlike any the world had ever seen, had never touched a woman's flesh. His superior workmanship would never be noticed by the world, much less the gods. Or at least, that's what Hephaestus thought.


	3. the great seductress

Hephaestus was carefully hammering a broadsword when he sensed a faint stirring within his forge. He had been alone so long, he had grown accustomed to hearing only the sounds of his own work, and the noise of another, however cunning, was easily picked up. The intruder clearly thought that Hephaestus could not hear him above the pounding of the sword on the anvil, and Hephaestus, not about to give away his advantage, allowed the intruder to continue to believe it was so. He finished hammering, and moved to put the sword in cool water. As the steam billowed in the mountain cave, the sword cooled instantly to a deadly sharpness. Hephaestus swung the sword in the direction of the intruder, the water splashing in a broad arc and the steam clouding his vision.

"Show yourself!" he demanded gruffly.

The intruder laughed lightly. As the steam cleared, Hephaestus discovered his sword pointing at a creature so beautiful she could exist only in dreams: a woman with long, dark, lustrous hair, tendrils curling at her alabaster throat, with fine features and vivid green eyes, looking at him. Clearly this could only be one of the immortal gods, he thought dumbly. _Looking at him._

Suddenly Hephaestus filled with shame and bent his ugly head, letting the sword drop to his side. "I-I'm very sorry. I didn't realize --," he stammered lamely. "I didn't think--"

"No," she murmured, moving uncomfortably closer, "it seems you didn't."

Soon she was standing not a breath away from him. Hephaestus was sure she could hear his heart pounding embarrassingly loud. He stared at her delicate sandals.

"I'm sorry," he managed.

She laughed again, a tinkling of tiny silver bells. She lifted one perfectly formed hand to his chin, and forced him to make eye contact with her. She looked into his eyes, unabashed and confident. Hephaestus looked at her hesitantly, searching her face for some hint of fear or repulsion. Surprisingly, he found none. Instead, there was something else present in her eyes, something he couldn't quite name, but which stirred a feeling akin to fear within him.

"No, Hephaestus," she purred, "don't apologize. I'm the one who interrupted your work."

"You know my name?" He found it difficult to think when those serpent green eyes were on him.

"Of course!" More bells tinkling. "And soon everyone on Olympus will know your name. You do such fine work."

"Er--"

She smiled sweetly and put him out of his misery. "I'm Aphrodite."

Hephaestus felt like some kind of reply was expected. Aphrodite, the most beautiful of all the gods, was here, in his forge, complimenting his work. He managed a weak grin.

It seemed to suffice. Aphrodite dropped her hand from his head, and turned to further admire his silverwork. She seemed to be especially attracted to the jewelry, cooing over this piece and holding that piece to her perfect throat. Hephaestus seemed to be able to think a little clearer now that she was no longer looking at him. Aphrodite was here in his forge. Did that mean the gods were finally paying attention to him? After all the years of hard labor, had the opportunity to prove himself finally arrive? He carefully walked over to her, hiding his twisted foot as best he could. Aphrodite was admiring a particularly stunning necklace. She turned towards him.

"This is beautiful!" she exclaimed. "May I try it on?"

She turned to let him fasten it. Hephaestus fumbled clumsily with the clasp he had made. His work was one thing he was confident enough to speak to her about, but Aphrodite was enthralled by her own reflection in the pool near the anvil.

"You know," she purred, "if there is one thing I admire, it's beauty."

The way she said that successfully removed any sense of confidence he might have had.

"You may have it, if you want it," he offered.

Her smile sparkled in the firelight. She moved to leave, but turned briefly.

"Whatever you may think, Hephaestus, you belong with the gods. Though you may lack Apollo's glory in features and Hermes's swift form, your hands are the hands of a god. They are beautiful, and they create beauty. And if there's one thing I admire," she reminded him, "it's beauty."

With that she left him to his own thoughts.


	4. the deaf king

Stirred on by a new confidence, and a secret passion for Aphrodite, Hephaestus decided the time had finally come when he should make his move. He gathered the best of his weapons to showcase, as well as another necklace he made for Aphrodite, and returned to Olympus for what was to be his glorious triumph.

In actuality, the meeting was more of a disaster. Hephaestus entered the palace confident enough, ignoring the stares and whispers that followed him as he approached Zeus at his throne. At the time Zeus was flirting with some young nymph, who seemed rather uncomfortable with the attention, and didn't even seem to notice that he had a guest. Finally Hephaestus cleared his throat awkwardly and proceeded to state the speech he had prepared during the journey.

"Zeus," he said a little too loudly, "I have returned."

Zeus finally directed his attention at Hephaestus. "Ah, He—Har--"

"Hephaestus."

"Ah, yes!" he exclaimed. "Hepatetus!" Hephaestus winced. "So glad you could join us. Where have you been all this time?"

Hephaestus was slightly taken aback. "I…but… you threw me out!"

Zeus shook his head sadly. "No, that was your mother. But I see you brought something! What have you there?"

"Oh, well…" Hephaestus showed the weapons he had made awkwardly. His planned speech lay in tatters.

Zeus inspected the weapons carefully, feeling for balance and testing the blades, all the while making small thoughtful noises. Hephaestus waited anxiously.

"Well," Zeus boomed, "I must say, these are fabulous! I've never seen anything like this! How did you make them?"

"Well, I discovered this new technique in my forge…" Hephaestus began, ready to go into a full and detailed explanation of how his weaponry was created. Zeus, however, clearly wasn't listening.

"A forge? I don't recall having a forge anywhere on Olympus!"

"It's one of my own making," Hephaestus tried in vain to return to his planned speech.

"Well, we shall simply have to build you a better one, won't we? A bit closer, I should think."

"You mean on Olympus?" Hephaestus couldn't believe how easy it was to return to Olympus. If only he had tried this years ago!

"Hmm, I see your point," Zeus said thoughtfully. "Alright, the forge will be built adjacent to the palace. No more arguments now! I expect you to be there, working, in no less than two weeks time. You are dismissed."

Hephaestus stood awkwardly for a moment, not sure what he should do. He bowed slightly to the King of the Gods, who had already redevoted his attention to the young nymph, and turned to walk away. Then Hephaestus stopped himself. He did not come all this way to be dismissed. And since it seemed that getting what he wanted was not nearly as difficult as he anticipated, he decided to push his luck.

"Zeus." He refused to call him "Your Majesty," or worse, "Father." "Zeus, there is something else I –er—desire."

Zeus glanced up at him, clearly annoyed to be disturbed again.

"Well, I was wondering, if, perhaps, I could--" Hephaestus shuffled his feet nervously. "You see, I desire Aphrodite as…my wife," he said finally.

Zeus continued to stare at him blankly. The other gods and goddesses stopped all conversation, no longer pretending that they weren't listening to the newcomer's demands. Then, the worst thing possible happened. Zeus began to laugh.

It started with a slight chuckle, and then grew, until he was practically bent over, afflicted with guffaws. It spread to the rest of the court, until the entire palace was flooded with laughter. Hephaestus, his face burning with shame, turned sharply and walked away. Just as he reached the main door, Zeus managed to catch his breath.

"Wait, wait, Hephatus," he choked, wiping a tear from his eye.

Hephaestus turned to the king expectantly.

"You wanted to marry – Aphrodite?" Zeus squealed, sending new waves of laughter throughout the court. Hephaestus turned away rigidly. The gods and goddesses, his future peers, were all rolling with laughter in a most unroyal fashion _at him. _As he left stormily, his eyes caught a young goddess staring at him from behind a pillar, a pair of eyes in the shadows. She was not laughing, and her blue eyes, never leaving his face, pooled with tears of sympathy. Hephaestus growled, and left even faster. If there was one thing he did not want, it was pity.


	5. the innocent shining

Over the next few months, Hephaestus put even more time into his work, and produced great things at his new forge on Olympus. Aphrodite visited once or twice, to admire his work and receive gifts, but never mentioned his marriage proposal. Perhaps, he reasoned, she has received so many advances that they have become insignificant. Whatever the case, he was glad that she never mentioned it. He couldn't bear to be made a fool in front of her.

The young goddess who had gazed at him in the palace on that first awkward day also tried to visit Hephaestus. At first he discouraged it; he was busy now that he had real commissioned work, and he still resented the pity she clearly had for him. But soon Hephaestus grew to welcome Aglaea's company. She was a simple girl, the youngest of the three Graces. At first she was quite talkative, asking a lot of questions about his work. But she soon realized that Hephaestus grew tired of talking, as he had lived alone for so long, and was content to watch him work quietly, her clear eyes never leaving him, or to chatter happily to herself. Eventually a genuine fondness developed between Hephaestus and the golden goddess, who, for some reason beyond his comprehension, chose to spend countless hours with him, and never seemed to see his physical failings. She did not mock him like Zeus, or intimidate him as Aphrodite did. She was just foolish girl, who seemed to take his stoic presence for good company, and he was glad of it.

On the fifth month after he moved into his new forge on Olympus, Hephaestus presented a fine new throne for Zeus, made from the finest gold, and truly fit for the King of the Gods. Zeus was greatly pleased, and made a great show of sitting on it for the first time at its presentation. This was his second great mistake. His first was to make a fool of Hephaestus, for Hephaestus had spent the first five months on Olympus plotting his revenge. The throne he had made for Zeus was in fact a trap, and would ensnare the sitter until a secret mechanism was pulled. Zeus naturally had no idea, and was enraged when he became entrapped. But there was nothing he or any of the other gods could do. The throne held him fast. Eventually Hephaestus was summoned.

"Release me at once!" bellowed Zeus.

Hephaestus remained calm. "Not until you let me marry Aphrodite."

"What? Is that what this is about? I refuse it!"

Hephaestus shrugged. "I hope you like your new throne; you shall remain in it for quite some time." He turned to walk away.

"Wait! Hephaestus!"

Hephaestus paused.

"Alright, you win. You may marry Aphrodite."

Hephaestus smiled.


	6. truth

Although there were very few gods on Olympus whom Hephaestus could call friends, the gods love more than anything a celebration. And so the marriage of Hephaestus and Aphrodite was an affair to remember. The bride was as beautiful as sin, which made up for the groom. However, it was the affair after the marriage that is remembered by most.

Hephaestus could not believe his good fortune. In less than year he went from having nothing to gaining everything he could possibly desire: the respect of the gods, a true forge, and a beautiful wife. He felt as if he were wearing Hermes's winged sandals every day as he went to the forge to labor and every night as he went home to his gorgeous wife.

One day at the forge, while singing a foolish happy love song with Algaea, Hephaestus received a message from Zeus, delivered by a nymph. Zeus requested his presence immediately. He and Algaea shared a puzzled glance. Zeus clearly admired his work, but never met with Hephaestus if he could help it, after the throne incident.

"Do you know why Zeus needs to see me?" Hephaestus asked.

"Sorry," replied the nymph in sweet tones, "I really don't know."

"What happened to Hermes?" Algaea asked. "Isn't he normally King Zeus's messenger?"

"Sorry," the nymph repeated.

Another puzzled glance.

"Well, that was odd," Hephaestus said when the nymph left.

"You should probably hurry and go anyways," Algaea said.

"You're probably right." Hephaestus wiped down his tools and washed his face and hands. When Algaea was finally satisfied with his appearance, he left for the throne room. On the way there he heard some strange sounds coming from a clearing near the palace. Without thinking, Hephaestus went to see what the noise was. He peeked around a tree and saw, to his utter embarrassment, a young couple engaged in a passionate act of lovemaking. Not sure if he should apologize, but certain he should leave, Hephaestus was in the middle of backing away quickly when he recognized the god as Hermes. _Well, that explains why Hermes couldn't deliver the message_, he thought. Hephaestus was just about to berate him for neglecting his duties when he recognized the goddess Hermes was entwined with: his wife.

Hephaestus walked with a deadly calm back to the forge.

"Back so soon?" Algaea asked.

Hephaestus ignored her, and grabbed the unbreakable net he was working on for Artemis.

He walked back to the clearing where he had discovered the lovers, and cast the net over them. Aphrodite screamed as she and Hermes struggled with the net, further entangling themselves. Without saying a word Hephaestus grabbed the net, complete with his wife and her lover, and dragged them to the throne room, where he deposited them unceremoniously at the foot of Zeus. Zeus seemed only mildly surprised.

"Why what have we got here?" he exclaimed.

Aphrodite and Hermes finally managed to untangle themselves and stood unabashed in the throne room.

"Ah, Hermes, been busy I see," Zeus quipped dryly.

"Explain this," Hephaestus said, through clenched teeth.

"What is there to explain?" Aphrodite asked, seemingly unconcerned by her husband's anger.

"You are my wife!" he shouted, clearly enraged.

"Yes," Aphrodite said.

Hephaestus was taken aback. He didn't know what he expected when he dumped the lovers on the floor in front of Zeus, but it certainly wasn't this shameless composure.

"Oh!" Aphrodite exclaimed. "I see! You thought that because we were married it meant I loved you and that I would be faithful. How sweet! You forget: I'm not the goddess of love; I'm the goddess of lust. Although I do admire your work, darling, there is so much more to life than work. And you are clearly not as lustworthy as dear Hermes here. Don't you remember, love? If there is one thing I admire it is beauty. And you, my fallen angel, are not beautiful by any standard."

Aphrodite's little speech successfully caused Zeus to burst into laughter, and soon the entire court was once again laughing at Hephaestus. Even Aphrodite allowed herself to chuckle briefly, the tiny tinkling tolls of death bells. Hephaestus turned and left, to return to the safety of his forge. At the door he stopped to catch his breath. Decisions would have to be made, important ones. Was it worth staying here on Olympus, now that he knew the true debauchery of the gods? He was disillusioned and heartbroken, and more than anything he wanted to be alone in his forge, to temper his rage with work. That, however, was not to be the case. Algaea was waiting for him.


	7. beauty

Hephaestus inwardly groaned. The ever-curious Algaea would want an explanation from him, and the last thing he wanted to do was talk about the day's events.

"She cheated on you." It was a statement not a question. Algaea had her back to the fire, so Hephaestus could not read her face, and for that he was grateful. He did not want to find pity there. He nodded. "I knew she would. Why did you allow yourself to be seduced by her?"

Hephaestus was confused. Algaea sounded…almost angry. Cheerful Algaea, bright, shining Algaea, with something completely foreign in her voice, something akin to hatred. Hephaestus thought it was directed at him.

"You're right. I'm stupid and low and ugly. How could someone as beautiful as she ever belong to me? I never deserved her. I deserve loneliness," he said with self-loathing.

"No," she whispered. "You're completely wrong. She never deserved you. She may be beautiful on the outside but her soul is cruel and wicked and selfish. You deserve something better. You deserve something Aphrodite could never give you. You deserve love."

Hephaestus could not be more confused. But he knew, somehow, that the answer could be found in her eyes. If only he could see her face. But for some reason Algaea was hiding in the shadows.

"Come out," Hephaestus ventured. "Step into the light so I can see your face."

Algaea stepped forward, almost shyly, refusing to look away from her feet. Hephaestus walked to her and gently raised her chin. Algaea's face was tear-stained and her lips trembled in fear, but her eyes, sweet and clear and blue, held something unnamable. And Hephaestus saw the answer. Algaea was the only one who was kind to him, the only one who never judged him for his outward appearance. She was grace personified, and she was the only one who could ever love him for what he was. He bent his head towards hers, and as they kissed, she caressed his face, not seeming to mind one bit that it was ugly.


End file.
